


somebody catch my breath

by nutelladownpour



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety, Based off of the book "Cut" by Patricia McCormick, Depression, Eating Disorders, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Making Out, Rehabilitation, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Wow that's pretty heavy, sad boys in love, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:10:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutelladownpour/pseuds/nutelladownpour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler didn’t belong in Sick Minds. Sick Minds was for druggies and nut cases, not a 17 year old boy with a promising future in basketball and a loving family. He shouldn't be locked up just because he gets sad sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i'm a goner

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic is based in a rehabilitation center for young boys, and deals with some pretty heavy themes. If you're triggered by self-harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of eating disorders, drugs or child abuse, I would not suggest that you read this. I'll put warnings on chapters that explicitly talk about these things.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy this mess.

Sea Pines was a terrible name for a building that was located nowhere near the sea or pine trees, in Tyler’s opinion. The nickname that the “guests” there gave it was a much more suitable title. What better name for a rehabilitation centre than Sick Minds? Tyler didn’t belong in Sick Minds. Sick Minds was for druggies and nut cases, not 17 year old boys with promising futures in basketball and a loving family. Tyler had never even so much as touched drugs or alcohol, and he rarely left his house.

He didn’t know why he needed to be here. He wasn’t broken, there wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was just a normal teenage boy, one who did his schoolwork and played basketball every day and liked to play music when he got the chance. He shouldn’t be locked up just because he got sad sometimes.

He stared down at his hands as he miserably thought about how he ended up here, and how he could get out. All of the exit doors sounded an alarm when opened, so he couldn’t exactly make a run for it. And according to the staff at Sick Minds, he was “resisting treatment,” and wouldn’t get out anytime soon.

“Tyler?” Todd said, his voice overly happy. Tyler would never understand how somebody who worked with “troubled teens,” as they were so nicely labelled, could possibly be as happy as Todd always was. “Why don’t you share some thoughts?” Todd continued hopefully, knowing that it wouldn’t work.

Tyler continued to stare down at his hands, picking at his nails slightly as he bit his tongue. He sat there silent for what felt like an eternity, before Todd sighed and moved on the next victim. Tyler had been here for three weeks now, and he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d gotten here. Todd tried every day to get him to speak, but it hadn’t worked yet. His silence had earned him a nickname within his group, “Silent Treatment”, and he still wasn’t sure whether or not it was a bad thing.

Tyler’s group therapy consisted of eight guys in total. There was their counsellor Todd, a lanky guy with long dark hair and a patchy beard, who was too friendly for the group he was in. He often told stories of his past addiction, which would be lovely if he didn’t constantly repeat the same phrase: “the lord has saved me.” It wasn’t as if Tyler wasn’t a bit religious himself, it was just that being stuck in a rehabilitation centre with a group of angry teenage boys with religion added on to that got old really fast.

Besides Tyler and Todd, there were six others. There was only one guy there with “food issues,” as they were so vaguely called, and he was usually pretty quiet during meetings. He was quite shy, and really short. He apparently had a lot of comments about his weight, and people rarely believed that somebody his size could be starving themselves. He would speak when spoken to during meetings, but spent most of the time staring down at his lap like Tyler did. Tyler couldn’t quite remember his name, but he felt like it started with a P.

There were two others there for the same reason as Tyler, though they actually talked about it in meetings. Pete, the oldest in the group besides Todd, was the loudest member of their group, and made Tyler want to speak long enough to tell him to shut the hell up. He didn’t wear long sleeves like Tyler always did, and Tyler often found himself staring at his arms. Pete’s recovery was much more evident than Tyler’s. The marks there were much more faded than his own, some of which were still fresh.

The other boy, Brendon, was rarely seen without his hoodie on, effectively covering the few marks on his forearms. He had spoken before in meetings about how he hadn’t often harmed himself on his arms, instead doing it places where it could be easily covered. He was friends with Pete, but it was obvious that even he got annoyed by him easily.

The other three were in for addiction, and Tyler was a bit wary of them. Two of them had gotten into coke when they were way too young; Alex because of his friends and Ryan because of his father. Ryan was rarely seen without Brendon and Pete, who he had been rooming with since he got there. Josh was the last member of his therapy group, and he had been in the facility for a few months. Tyler couldn’t remember too much about him, besides that he was hooked on prescription medication and was a year or two older than him. Tyler had spent most of their therapy sessions trying not to stare at Josh, and failing quite terribly.

Alex was the second oldest, but he had been there the longest. Tyler had been rooming with Alex for the few short weeks he had there, and now that Alex was “graduating” from the program, he would be getting a new roommate. When it was announced to their group that Alex would be leaving this week, Todd had told Tyler of his new roommate. Sea Pines didn’t allow the self-harmers to have single rooms, so Tyler would be moving into one of the older boy’s rooms.

Tyler rolled his eyes as Pete launched into yet another long-winded and ultimately pointless story, sitting up in his seat to avoid falling asleep. It wasn’t too long before his eyes landed on Josh, and then he was gone. He would never understand how his dyed hair still looked so bright despite being without hair dye for months. He suspected that he got people to sneak dye in for him.

The worst thing about being stuck in Sick Minds wasn’t the therapy, or being away from his family, or even having to put up with Pete. In the end, the worst thing to Tyler was his ridiculous little crush on the drug addict in his therapy group.

 

**|-/**

 

After group therapy was supper, and Tyler appreciated the break from being expected to talk. However, his group was all assigned to the same table during lunch, and they always tried to include him in their conversations. The only time Tyler had ever contributed was when they asked if he agreed on how disgusting the food was, and he nodded. Today’s meal of choice was some sort of meat in a mysterious grey sauce, with half-cooked rice and overcooked carrots. The hardest part about the meals at Sick Minds had to be the utensils you were expected to eat with. At every meal, the oldest person at each table was in charge of handing out and collecting the plastic sporks they were required to eat with. Knives and forks were too dangerous to eat with apparently, and even the sporks had to be taken away at the end of the meal.

There was a surprisingly long list of items that you weren’t allowed to have at Sick Minds. Forks, knives, razors, pencils and pens…the list goes on. They were allowed to shave their faces every couple of days, with a disposable razor and under the careful eye of a nurse. The same went for pencils during homework hours, and utensils at meals.

After Tyler took his spork from Pete, he stared down at his food and tried to figure out how in the world he could eat what appeared to be a pork chop with a spork. He looked up for a moment, his eyes falling on the boy sitting across from him. Josh had apparently decided that the best way to eat his meat was to stab his spork into the centre of it and pick the entire thing up. Tyler looked back down at his own plate, shrugging slightly to himself before driving his useless utensil into the middle of his meat, sending his carrots flying to the ground.

“Nice one, S.T.!” Pete laughed, and Tyler could feel his cheeks heating up as the other boys laughed along.

Tyler quickly dove under the table to retrieve the fallen food, silently cursing Pete for being such a loud asshole. As he scrambled to collect all of the carrots, he caught a glimpse of something in one of the boy’s laps. After a moment of squinting at it, he realized that it was a napkin full of food. He swallowed, wondering if he should mention it or not before crawling back into his seat.

Tyler’s cheeks were still a bit pink as he sat in his chair, tossing his carrots into his napkin and continuing his attempts at eating. He was still thinking about the blonde boy across the table that was sitting with Pete - Patrick maybe? - and felt guilt pool in his stomach. If he said something, Patrick might hate him forever. If he didn’t, nobody but him would know that Patrick still wasn’t eating much. He ultimately decided to keep it to himself, at least until he saw anything else happening, and quickly finished his meal.

Tyler’s big plans for the evening always included sitting in the lounge area and ignoring everyone before he was allowed to go to bed. His plans were changed by Alex moving out, and he was sent to help him strip their beds and take the sheets down to the laundry room. Tyler waved goodbye to him as he left, not looking forward to packing everything he had up again. After shoving everything he had brought with him into his suitcase, he pulled it down the hallway to his new room.

As he walked up to the room that he was assigned to, he peered into the empty room through the archway. One of the other brilliant things about Sick Minds was the lack of bedroom doors, meaning that every little sound would echo throughout the entire hallway. Tyler looked up at the sign hanging above the archway, its bubble letters only saying one name, “Josh.”

Tyler’s stomach sank as he realized who his new roommate would be, and he hesitantly pulled his bag into the small room. The bed by the window was ready claimed by Josh, so Tyler shoved his bag under the bed closer to the hall. He quickly made his bed, knowing that he didn’t have much time before one of the nurses would come looking for him. He thought briefly about just going to bed, but he knew that the consequences much outweighed the extra hour of sleep.

He dragged himself back down the hallway towards the lounge area, where most of the other boys were crowded around to watch _Family Feud_. Patrick was across the room, playing Connect 4 with Ryan, and Tyler didn’t really know where he should go. He scanned the room, contemplating if he should go back to his new room to grab some homework or not before Brendon started to wave him over to the couch.

Tyler shrugged, heading over to the tiny couch where the remaining four teenagers were trying to squish themselves together. Tyler chose to sit on the floor instead of on somebody’s lap, and smiled slightly to himself as everyone continued to shout out answers to the questions. Game show nights always seemed fun for everyone involved, and Tyler wished that one day he would speak enough to join in.

After the show was over, a nurse came in to escort everyone back to their rooms for the night. Tyler was a bit scared to be rooming with a stranger, as he had just gotten used to Alex. Especially a stranger who he was oddly attracted to.

The rooms at Sick Minds were a lot like hospital rooms in disguise. They had beds with bars on the foot and sides, and the tracks from the curtains that used to be around them were still on the ceiling. All of the medical equipment had been removed, but most of the original furniture was still there. Each room had a small bathroom off to one side, which were supposedly off-limits, even though everyone used them anyway. Most people didn’t want to anyway, as instead of a door with a lock, the bathrooms had archways and thin curtains. The main difference was that, in an attempt to brighten up the rooms, all of the walls were painted a sickening shade of yellow. Tyler hated everything about it.

Tyler got back to his room before Josh did, and a part of him was hoping that Josh had made a run for it. He quickly undressed for bed and crawled under the covers, only there for a minute or two before his new roommate walked through the doorway.

“Hey, S.T.,” Josh greeted, walking across the room to grab something from his small dresser. “Looks like we’re roomies now.”

Tyler blinked over at Josh, wanting to say hello to the other boy but not wanting to at the same time. He hadn’t spoke to anyone in three weeks, and he wasn’t about to break his streak now.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” Josh continued, turning to look at Tyler. “You’re new here. You don’t know any of us.” Josh stared at Tyler for a moment, before standing up and heading into the small bathroom that was joined to their room.

Tyler couldn’t help but to feel a little bit guilty for not trying to get to know anyone. He felt like he should at least talk to his roommate, or the other guys in his therapy group. Even his personal therapist had never heard him speak, and he really should have fixed that.

The sound of the shower started suddenly, and the noise comforted Tyler somewhat. It blocked out the sounds from the hallways, the gentle sobbing that could be heard every night coming from the other bedrooms. It was a familiar sound, and it helped lul Tyler to sleep.

**|-/**

 

 

Weekends were non-existent in rehab, as Tyler quickly realized. He was used to relaxing on Saturdays, as much as he could, though Sunday nights usually turned to anxiety about going back to school. Tyler was somewhat glad that Sea Pines didn’t have breaks, at least that way the routine was always the same.

On Saturday morning, Tyler was woken up at 7 in the morning by a nurse, who was there to let them know that breakfast would be at 8. He groggily dragged himself out of bed, rubbing at his eyes as he entered the bathroom to quickly shower and brush his teeth. Josh was still sound asleep in his bed, and Tyler grumbled at himself for not thinking of showering at night.

After he was clean and dressed in leggings and a baggy hoodie, he slipped on his shoes and started to unpack his bag. There was still about a half hour left until breakfast, so he started to shove all of his clothes into the dresser next to his bed. Saturdays were also the days that family was allowed to visit, and although he doubted that anyone would come for him, he didn’t want his room to be messy if they did.

As Tyler was shoving his notebooks and pens into his nightstand, he heard a low groan from behind him. He froze for a moment, before remembering Josh. He turned to look at the older boy, waving slightly before turning back to his now empty suitcase. He kicked the bag under his bed, fixing his blankets before siting on the edge of his bed.

Tyler looked over at Josh for a moment, who blinked before sitting up in bed. Tyler could feel his cheeks heat up as he saw that Josh slept shirtless, and he turned away. He heard Josh chuckle quietly from behind him, before getting up.

“I should probably put clothes on,” he mumbled sleepily, pulling a shirt on. “Not that I don’t love making you blush.”

Tyler whipped his head around, staring at Josh with wide eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, before closing it again and just shaking his head. Josh just laughed again, walking into the bathroom to rush his teeth, wiggling his hips as he did so.

Tyler’s mind was reeling at this point, and he kind of wanted to throw up. He couldn’t tell if Josh was just teasing like he did to everyone else, or if he had picked up on Tyler’s infatuation. Either way, Tyler couldn’t stand being in the room anymore, and he headed down to breakfast a few minutes early.

Once he was seated with his toast and cereal - way easier to eat with a spork than pork chops - Tyler stared down at his plate. He had a therapy session by himself right after breakfast, and then time to do homework and such until visiting hours. He thought once again about trying to make a run for it, not wanting the awkwardness of sitting in a room silent for an hour.

He looked up from his plate when he heard the unmistakable obnoxious sound of Pete Wentz entering the cafeteria, being just as loud as he always was. There was no doubt in Tyler’s mind that Pete was the worst person to have ever existed. Ever.

Tyler quickly set to eating his breakfast, not wanting to have Pete try to rope him into another conversation. He didn’t look up as Josh sat next to him, either. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly as he saw Josh smirk out of the corner of his eye.

If Pete Wentz was the Worst Person In The World, Josh Dun was definitely in the running to steal his title.


	2. be concerned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things tyler hates:
> 
> \- therapy sessions  
> \- his dad  
> \- josh dun
> 
> things tyler doesn't really hate:
> 
> \- josh dun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has fairly graphic descriptions of self-harm, as well as mentions of drug use and child abuse. If you're easily triggered by any of this, PLEASE do not read this.

"Can you tell me how this began, Tyler?" the monotone voice of Tyler's bored therapist broke the quiet of the room, the only other sound coming from the white noise machines that lined the hallway. His voice interrupted Tyler's daily counting of the stripes on the wallpaper, and he was annoyed about it. Now he would have to start over."Tyler."

Tyler moved his gaze from the ugly walls to his therapist's face, blinking at him silently. "Do you remember how it started?" he asked again, looking absolutely exhausted.

Tyler just shrugged in response, not saying anything and looking back down at his lap, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater. In fact, he remembered exactly how it had started.

 

**|-/**

 

Tyler had basketball practice after classes, at his house of course. His father had a rule that went along with his homeschooling: he had to shoot 500 baskets every night before supper, without missing a single one. Some people would say that it was cruel, but some people just didn't know Tyler's dad. Others would laugh if Tyler mentioned it, as if it were a joke instead of a strictly enforced rule. Tyler's father was an odd man, to say the least. He was never in a good mood, and although he didn't get mad easily, it was terrifying when he was. Tyler didn't really like to think about his dad much, and he only spoke to him at supper to assure him that he hadn't missed any baskets, even when he usually messed up. He messed everything up.

This time, he was just about done his baskets without actually missing a single one, a rare feat. He only had about fifteen more to go before he could go inside to eat, when his dad came out to watch his last few baskets. He did that sometimes, and it always made Tyler nervous. He had never actually messed up while his dad was watching, but he didn't want to know what would happen if he did. His dad was off to the side, his arms crossed across his chest and his permanent frown evident on his face. Tyler always tried to make his dad smile, but he'd come to the conclusion that he'd never be good enough to make that happen. He was determined to finish his baskets without losing his streak, and maybe make him dad the least bit proud of him.

His thoughts were racing, and his dad's presence was making him even more flustered than he normally would be. He was just about to shoot for his 497th basket when his wrist slipped, sending the ball flying to the exact wrong spot. Tyler watched as the ball bounced across the driveway, frozen in place as dread sank into his stomach.

He heard the familiar sound of his dad tsking, and he looked up at him to see him shaking his head. "Better start over," he said gruffly, turning to walk back to the house. "I'll let your mother know that you won't be joining us for dinner tonight."

Tyler watched in disbelief as his dad slammed the front door shut after him, and then he was gone. He ran past the basketball that was sitting at the end of the driveway, he ran past their mailbox, and then past the next one, and the next one...

He ran all the way down their street, and then the street next to theirs. He ran until his feet hurt and his head wasn't swirling anymore, and then he ran some more. Everything around him was a blur, and he barely registered where he was going and when he was turning. He wasn't sure when it had gotten dark, but suddenly he was stopping in the pitch blackness of the woods. Tyler looked up around him, not recognizing where he was at all. He started to hesitantly walk towards where he assumed the road would be, and started thinking about what he was going to do. He wondered for a brief moment if his dad would even notice that he had left, or if he thought he was actually reshooting baskets all night long.

Tyler walked for only a couple of minutes before he finally realized where he was. The woods behind his house had never been his favourite spot, so he didn't recognize them at first. It wasn't until he broke into a small clearing that he was sure of where he was, probably only about five minutes behind his house. He thought for a moment how weird it was that he had ran all night and eventually ended up back at the place he was running away from, but at least now he wasn't lost.

Tyler sighed deeply, his heart still racing from running, and he started to walk towards his house. It had been years since he'd been in the woods, and there was a new addition to the trees. Stuck in between two large trees was a treehouse, obviously abandoned at this point by the kids who had outgrown it. Tyler stared up at the treehouse for a few minutes, before climbing up the ladder and sprawling onto the floor.

There was hardly anything in the treehouse, except for a child's camp chair and a small table. Tyler thought for a moment that he should bring some stuff up here to make it a bit more comfortable, before the panic finally set in. He had just ran away from home, ignoring the fact that he was only a few minutes away. His parents must be so worried, and he didn't want to upset them any more than he already had. He quickly scrambled back down the ladder, jumping onto the ground from the third rung and breaking into a sprint again, ignoring the burning in his lungs.

By the time he made it back to his house, he had completely forgotten about the basketball, and pushed his way through his front door. He was greeted with silence, save for his panting, and he pulled his shoes off to leave them by the door. He stepped into his house slowly, looking around for signs of anything different. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he realized that nobody had even noticed him gone.

Tyler stood frozen in place in the entryway, before he was suddenly running again. This time he ran to the upstairs bathroom, searching through the drawers where his mother kept all of their extra toiletries. After rummaging around for a moment, he found what he was looking for. He picked up the black disposable razor, staring at it for a second before slipping it into the pocket of his hoodie and shutting the drawer.

Once back in his room, he set to getting to the thing he needed. He had never done this before, and didn't really know what would work. He eventually stuck a pair of scissors from his desk in between the blades and opened them, popping the cheap plastic apart and sending the metal blades flying across his desk. He stared at the broken plastic in his hand in shock, not really having expected that to work.

In a sudden rush of an unknown emotion, Tyler grabbed one of the thin blades and sat back on his floor, his knees pulled to his chest and his sweater sleeve pulled up to his elbow. He once again stared at the blade, thinking long and hard before pressing it to a loose piece of paper on the floor. He pressed and pulled, creating a clean cut in the paper and a scratch on the floor below. Great, just another thing for his parents to hate him for. _Oh wait,_ he thought. _They don't even notice you. They don't care. Nobody cares._

It was with that thought that Tyler lifted the blade again, the metal feeling strangely heavy in his hand, this time pressing it to the skin of his forearm. He blinked, staring at his arm before repeating the action he had done with the paper. Sharp pain shot through his arm where the blade had made contact, and after a few seconds, blood started to bead from the shallow cut.

Tyler wasn't sure what he had expected to feel, but it definitely wasn't what he felt. He felt pressure building in his chest, and he felt the urge to do it again. And again. He kept repeating the action until suddenly, the pressure in his chest disappeared. It was replaced by sudden, intense relief.

Tyler breathed out a loud sigh, laughing slightly at himself. He let the blade in his hand drop to the floor, and he stared at the six thin lines on his arm. The bubbles of red liquid around them fascinated him, and he thought for a moment that they were beautiful.

After that night, Tyler always went back to the abandoned treehouse in the woods with his blade, and felt as if he finally had a safe haven from his dad and his mind.

 

**|-/**

 

"Tyler?" his therapist repeated, his voice causing Tyler to snap out of his trance and glance up at him wordlessly. "Do you remember how you started?"

Tyler stared back at him silently, blinking once before his therapist sighed. "That's probably enough for today, Tyler." he said, closing his still-empty notebook.

Tyler looked over at the clock again as he left, and he didn't mention that they still had forty minutes left of his appointment.

 

**|-/**

 

Visiting hours were never fun for Tyler. It wasn't like they were fun for anybody, but at least they would speak to their family, and have news about them getting better. Tyler didn't. He sat in the lounge area, staring at his lap as his mother stared back at him. She was alone, again, but he hadn't expected anything else. "Your father wanted to be here," she had explained hurriedly when she had first arrived. "He's just so busy with marking this weekend, he wasn't able to come." _Yeah, alright_. Tyler didn't say. _It's not as if he gives a single fuck about me anyway_.

Tyler was used to this from his mother. She had spent the past seventeen years making excuses for the way he acted, saying that he just had a long day, or he was tired. Frankly, Tyler was sick of it. His mom dropped off his lessons for a week, which he would probably finish all of before dinner the next day. Her visit was short, as they always were, and she apologized about his father again before leaving. Tyler resisted the urge to scream.

He spent the rest of visiting hours in the back of the lounge by himself, working on his lessons so he wouldn't disappoint more people.

 

**|-/**

 

Group therapy was better than one-on-one sessions. Instead of sitting in a room for an hour in near silence with a stranger, Tyler would be surrounded by people that wouldn't try to force him to talk. Instead, he would just listen. Sometimes he felt a bit weird about just sitting and listening to everyone, but that's what group therapy was for. He was just learning about people.

Todd skipped over him today, thankfully, and went straight to Patrick. "How have you been, Pat?" he asked cheerily, leaning on his hand and smiling across the circle at him.

"Fine," Patrick replied quietly, looking up at Todd shyly. "How have you been, Todd?" The group laughed quietly at that, except for Pete's obnoxiously loud laugh.

"I've been good!" Todd replied, chuckling slightly. "Pete tells me that you've been eating more at meals?" he continued, phrasing his words like a question.Tyler perked up slightly, hoping that nobody noticed. He didn't know Patrick well enough to know if he was a good liar, but he was about to find out.

"Yeah I guess," Patrick mumbled. "The cafeteria workers won't take my dishes until they're empty," he added under his breath, looking back down at his feet.

"Well, I'm proud of you! We're all proud, aren't we boys?" Todd said happily, trying to get a slow clap for Patrick started that nobody joined in on. "Anyway, how've you been, Josh?"

Tyler slowly looked up, his eyes wandering over to his new roommate. He was shocked to see Josh smirking back at him, and he felt his cheeks heat up slightly. "I've been good," Josh replied, his voice smooth and _perfect_. "Tyler makes an okay roommate, I guess."

If Tyler's face wasn't red before, it sure as hell was now. He felt the eyes of the rest of the group on him, and he wanted nothing more than for death to consume him. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest, and he quickly looked back at his lap.

"I'm glad that you two are getting along," Todd said, just as excited as he was about everything. "Tyler, I'm assuming you don't have anything to say about Josh being your roommate?"

Scratch that. There's one thing Tyler wanted more than death, and that was to punch Todd in the face. He quickly shook his head, not looking up. His heart rate wasn't going down, and he wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack from people looking at you.

"Didn't think so!" Todd continued, oblivious to Tyler's mental breakdown. "So, Pete..."

 

**|-/**

 

As it turns out, Josh Dun likes to talk. Every night, he showered and got into bed (after a momentous amount of teasing Tyler), and talked. Tyler wasn't even sure if he was talking to him in particular, or just to himself. Either way, he listened. He hated to speak, but he loved to listen to peopleHe learned a lot about Josh in the first week that they were rooming together.

He learned that he was only 15 when he started abusing drugs, and 17 when his parents found out about it. Pills were his thing, but he had tried just about everything else. His parents had tried everything to get him to stop, but eventually they gave him an ultimatum: jail or rehab. And that's how Josh ended up here. 18 years old, in a rehab centre with a group of annoying teenagers, talking to himself in the middle of the night. Or so he said. They both knew after a few nights that Tyler was always listening, just never talking. That seemed to be his "thing."

Tyler also learned about Josh's girlfriend, and how she had broken up with him after he said he couldn't quit the drugs. He learned about how he numbed the pain of her leaving with even more drugs. And he learned his how much he adored Josh's voice. How much he adored Josh.

Look, Tyler wasn't _gay_ , alright? He wasn't allowed to be. His dad had raised him to know that gay meant different, and different meant bad. Any bit of homosexuality that he showed as a young teenager was squashed out of him, even if it wasn't anything too obvious. Sure, Tyler had checked out guys before. Thought about kissing them. Hell, maybe he had even thought about what it would be like to _fuck_ a guy. That doesn't mean that he's gay.

But if he were gay, it would be for Josh Dun.

Ah, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I wasn't expecting the feedback I got on the first chapter. Thank you so much! I'll probably upload this as I write it, but I'll be AWOL until after exams. 
> 
> Keep leaving kudos and comments! :)


	3. and you swear to your parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> therapy, flashbacks & sad boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is really short but whatever. WARNING for descriptions of child abuse and homophobic slurs. Please do not read if that triggers you

Tyler once again found himself seated on the scratchy couch that took up half of his therapist's office. He wished that he'd talk enough to be upgraded to the "fun" therapies, though he knew that he would hate yoga or crafts just as much as this. His therapist, a young man who was going bald way too early on in his life, stared at him over his notebook. He sighed deeply, already knowing that he wouldn't get any answers before he asked his questions. It made Tyler a bit sad that even his therapist had given up on him, but he couldn't blame him. It had been a long tim since he'd given up on himself.

"So Tyler," the older man said, sounding tired. "Do you think you can tell me a bit about your family?" Tyler flinched slightly, hoping that the other wouldn't notice. He had gotten asked about his family a few times, but only in passing. Things like "how do you think this makes your family feel?", and stuff like that. The direct questions were always harder to think about.

"I've met your mother and younger sister," he pressed. "Do you have other siblings? What about your father?" Again, Tyler felt like screaming. He felt like that a lot these days. He hated thinking about his dad, and he had thought briefly about how he wouldn't see his dad while locked up here.

He tried to make his mind go blank, not wanting to think about anything at all. The sounds of the white noise machines in the hallway disappeared, replaced by the voice of his father in his head.

 

**|-/**

 

"Is there anything you don't fuck up? For God's sake, Tyler! What part of this are you not understanding? We never should have stopped homeschooling you. You obviously need more help than we thought."

It was a Wednesday evening, and his dad was angry. His siblings were all out of the house, having cleared out the moment that Tyler came home with what might as well have been a bomb. He held the paper out in front of him, his chin quivering as he showed his younger siblings the bright red "B" at the top of the page. When his mom had gotten home, she held her breath as she told Zack, Maddy and Jay that they should go to their grandparents for the night. Tyler couldn't help but to feel a bit betrayed.

Tyler sat on a stool in the dining room, looking down at his lap as his dad continued to scream at him. I _'m so stupid,_ he had thought. _I should have studied more. Why the fuck didn't I study more? I'm so incredibly stupid._

"You're not even listening to me!" his father bellowed, his voice echoing through the empty house. His mother had long ago left to cry in the garage.

"I'm listening," Tyler mumbled, still not looking up. He didn't want his dad to see the tears in his eyes, knowing that it would be worse if he did.

"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you," his hissed, grabbing Tyler's chin and roughly pulling him up to look at him. His fingers dug into Tyler's skin, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. "Are you crying?" he sneered, his face contorting into an angry smile that Tyler would never be able to unsee.

He let go of Tyler's face roughly, watching as he rubbed at the red marks where his fingers had been. "You're a fucking baby," he spat, shaking his head. "Stop crying. You're 16 years old, it's about damn time you grew up." Tyler nodded quickly, a small sob escaping before he could stop it. Then, he was on the floor.

His hand flew up to his cheek instinctively, the skin burning from where his dad had slapped him. He blinked once, and then twice, staring at the feet of the stool that he'd been sitting on. He still hadn't quite registered what had happened. His dad had never hit him before, he hadn't been expecting it. Usually he just yelled a lot, and then locked himself in his room all night.

"I said stop crying, you little fag," he shouted, shaking his head before storming out of the room. Tyler stayed on the floor, no longer crying. He was still in shock, his mind reeling from the previous events. Neither of his parents had ever laid a hand on him before, not even as a gentle spanking as a misbehaving child. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.

His mother would try to apologize for his dad, saying that he had had a long day and just needed to rest. She would say gently that maybe Tyler just needed to work harder to bring his marks back up to straight A's. She would speak a lot, but Tyler wouldn't listen. He just sat at the table next to her, cradling his bruising cheek in one hand and clutching on to the proof of his failure tightly in the other.

His dad continued to yell at him and occasionally strike him. He started going to his treehouse more often.

 

**|-/**

 

Back in the small, cold building that was Sea Pines Rehabilitation Centre, present-day Tyler didn't realize that he had been crying until he was told. He looked up quickly as his therapist handed him a tissue, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. He vaguely recognized that he was shaking, before wiping desperately at his eyes and blowing his nose.

"It's okay to cry Tyler," said the main gently, writing something in his notebook for the first time during one of their sessions. He looked confused when Tyler shook his head quickly. "It is," he continued. "Crying doesn't make you weak. It means you're strong for dealing with so much." Tyler kept shaking his head, and the man make a _tsk_ ing noise under his breath. Just like his dad used to.

"I think that we're done for today, Tyler. Unless you have something you want to say." Tyler didn't speak up, and his therapist nodded solemnly. "Then you are free to go." Tyler jumped out of his seat on the couch, throwing the door open and running down the hallway as soon as the words were out of the doctor's mouth.

He still had half an hour left, technically, and nowhere to go. He could try to run, but the chance of getting caught much outweighed the chances of being free. Even if he were to successfully get out, where would he go? He sure as hell couldn't go home.

Tyler wandered the halls for a few minutes, before deciding to head back to his room. Patients - or "guests," as they were dubbed - weren't allowed in their rooms outside of sleeping. They were supposed to stay under the careful eye of a nurse at all times but Tyler didn't care. He didn't want to do anything but sleep. When he approached the archway of his room, his heart sank as he realized that the room wasn't empty.

Josh was sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't look over as Tyler entered, and he wondered for a moment if he was asleep. Tyler quietly made his way over to his bed, not wanting to wake Josh if he was asleep.

"Shouldn't you be at therapy?" Josh said suddenly, causing Tyler to jump. His voice sounded different than it usually did, more rough and angry-sounding. Tyler stayed silent, staring over at Josh as he rolled over. "Well? Why are you here?" Josh demanded, his voice cracking at the end.

Tyler noticed that his eyes were red, and wondered briefly what he had been crying about. Tyler blinked back at Josh, and the other boy sighed deeply. He sat up in his bed, the blankets falling down to reveal his bare chest. Tyler felt his cheeks heat up again, wondering if Josh ever wore a shirt. "Sorry for snapping," the older boy said. "I kind of just stormed out of a therapy session, and I'm kinda of pissed at myself for it."

Tyler hesitated before stepping forward, placing a hand on Josh's shoulder gently. The other looked up at him and smiled, and Tyler's heart melted a bit. _No, gay thoughts. Stop it,_ he thought weakly. As much as he tried to deny it, he was definitely infatuated with Josh at this point. "Thanks, S.T.," he said, and Tyler's heart sank. The guy that he had a stupid crush on only knew him by a dumb nickname, an uncreative one at that. Tyler nodded in response, forcing a small smile before returning to his bed.

"S-Tyler, yeah?" Josh said after a minute, and Tyler felt stupid for feeling so happy about it. Tyler looked over at Josh again to find the other boy staring at him. His hair looked even brighter than it had the previous morning, and Tyler suspected that he got somebody to bring him red dye. He nodded slowly, smiling again. Josh smiled back, and his eyes got squinty. Tyler wanted to die.

"Sorry for calling you that stupid nickname. Pete started calling you that, and I honestly didn't really know your name," Josh said apologetically. "I hope it doesn't bother you or anything." Tyler shook his head to say that it was alright, and Josh nodded back. "Good. I don't want you to be upset." God, the pining was pathetic. Get ahold of yourself, Joseph.

Tyler watched as Josh rolled over onto his back again, continuing to talk to him. It was oddly comforting, and Tyler was a little bit in love with Josh's voice.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Josh asked suddenly. "I mean, I'm here for drugs. Pat's bad with food. Why are you here?" The room was silent for a few minutes, before it was interrupted by the sound of Josh slapping his forehead. "Shit, you don't talk. I completely forgot."

Tyler laughed quietly, covering his mouth with his hand and muffling the sound. Josh giggled at himself, the sound like music to Tyler's ears. "You know you don't have to talk to me," he said. "You don't have to talk to any of us. You talk to your therapist though, right?" Josh looked over at him again, waiting for a response. His eyes widened when Tyler hesitantly shook his head.

" _Tyler!_ " he exclaimed, sitting up quickly. His face was one of complete concern, and Tyler felt a little bit bad. A little. "You need to talk to your therapist so you can get better!"

Tyler looked down, biting his lip hard. He didn't like conflict, and he felt like Josh was mad at him. He shook his head quickly, almost as desperately as he did in his therapist's office earlier. Before he knew what was happening, Josh was sitting next to him in his bed with his arms around him. Tyler's breathing quickened a bit, and he hoped that Josh wouldn't notice. Josh, who was - yep, still shirtless. Tyler was going to pass out.

"Hey," Josh mumbled, pulling Tyler in for a tight hug. "It's alright. We're all here for something, we're all broken people, Ty." Tyler nodded, feeling as if he was about to cry again. "You don't need to talk to me for me to be your friend, alright?" Tyler nodded again, not looking at Josh as they pulled away from each other.

"If you ever feel like talking, just let me know," Josh grinned. Tyler smiled back, nodding. He might still be broken, but at least he could call Josh a friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s orry


	4. it'll never happen again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler hates himself, and he really hates josh dun.
> 
> but he also might kind of love josh dun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SELF HARM. 
> 
> Really, you should know that by now and not read this fic if that triggers you. But this entire chapter deals with relapse and self-harm, so pleeeeeeease don't read this if that will harm you. 
> 
> {also, i know it's been 84 years. i am so r ry}

It was only 11:27 on a Thursday morning, and Tyler wanted to die.

The morning has consisted of him getting to breakfast late, due to even more teasing from his new roommate, and then spilling his food all over none other than Pete Wentz, who was an over-dramatic asshole about it. He was sure that Pete had just been joking, he didn’t seem like a malicious guy. Tyler just hated yelling, and he already felt like crying by the time 10:30 rolled around.

His appointment with his therapist went almost the exact same as the last one had. He sat and cried silently over nothing and everything, and then left half an hour early. He went back to his room again, this time sans Josh. After only a few minutes of sitting in his bed with teary eyes, the silence started to drive him crazy. He hadn’t spoken at all since he’d been there, but he’d been constantly surrounded by noise. Group therapy wasn’t for another twenty minutes, and Tyler found himself wandering down the narrow hallway to the bathroom once his one-on-one was over.

He wondered briefly if his therapist had been telling the nurses that he was leaving early. He would guess not, or else they’d be all over him about where he was for the rest of the morning. He wondered if the doctor would get in trouble for doing so, as patients were supposed to abide by a very strict schedule and never be unattended. He pushed those thoughts of his mind, and they were immediately replaced by the bad things. The dark thoughts that used to consume him so often that he had to be sent to the hell hole that was Sick Minds in the first place.

Tyler wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing, or why he was subconsciously heading towards the bathroom at the end of the long ball that nobody ever used. It wasn't as even he had to use the toilet, and if he did, he would have gone back to his room. The public washrooms at Sick Minds were absolutely disgusting, starting with the fact that there was only one on the entire floor. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the 90’s, and the mint green tiles on the walls and floors were enough to make anyone feel sick. Tyler had only been standing in the middle of the room for a few seconds before his head started to turn, his sight blurring a bit, though he wasn’t sure if it was from his anxiety or the terrible interior decorating. He was only vaguely aware of his heavy breathing as he looked around the room madly, looking for something to make the ache in his chest go away. He didn’t know what he had expected to find, until his eyes landed on something across the room that was perfect for what he needed.

For a place that was so hard on everyone with its strict regulations, Sick Minds let some really obvious things through the cracks. For example, the paper towel dispenser with a perfectly jagged edge meant to tear the paper towel off. Tyler stared at the shiny metal blade for a minute, his breath caught in his throat as he slowly walked across the room to it. He ran his finger lightly along the edge, just to test how sharp it was and _ow_. The main part of the blade might not be sharp at all, but the corners were just enough to cause a tiny droplet of blood to bead from the tip of his pointer finger. He stared at the red for a minute, letting it drip down his finger and onto the tile below. He thought for a moment that the red was a stark contrast against the mint, before he pulled up the right sleeve of his sweater and positioned it under the blade.

Tyler sucked in a deep breath quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled his arm along the corner of the blade. Sharp pain shot through his arm an he gasped, his eyes flying open to look at the rough scratch on his arm. He couldn’t help but to be slightly disappointed for it not being even, but it would do. The slight pain helped ease the aching in his chest, even if it had moved to his arm instead. He blinked - once and then twice - his eyes locking on the jagged red line before he pulled his sleeve back down the cover it, stepping over the droplet of blood that his finger had left before exiting the bathroom.

Tyler was still in a bit of a daze as he made his way back to his room, collasping face-first onto his bed the second that he got to it. He smiled against his flattened pillow, any and all traces of guilt completely washed away by relief. He felt almost ecstatic. In a sick, twisted way, he had missed the feeling of dragging a blade across his skin. He had missed the control that he felt when his pain was in his own hands for once, and he liked it. He felt in control for the first time since he had been in Sick Minds, and he craved more of it. He needed to find more ways to do it, not just the sickening bathroom on the seconds floor.

Tyler rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He was sure that there was something else in the building that would work. He had never had to be creative with his methods before, always having access to razors with nobody constantly on his back. The nurses everywhere would make everythign difficult, but at least nobody would be checking for fresh cuts. Yet another thing that Sick Minds somehow let slip through the cracks of their flawed system.

Tyler let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a second and thinking about how nice a nap would feel. He always felt sleepy after cutting, and he never knew why. Maybe it was the slight blood loss, or the feeling of relief knocking out everything that usually kept him up. Whatever it was, it didn't take too long for him to drift off to sleep, still in his clothes on top of his bed, a mere fifteen minutes before his group therapy was scheduled.

 

  
**|-/**

 

  
Tyler had woken up in a lot of weird positions in his lifetime. He had once slept through a thunderstorm while camping, and woken up floating in his sleeping bag. He had fallen out of bed and not even woken up, even when falling from the top bunk. And he had woken up numerous times in the woods, having fallen asleep in his treehouse after shedding some blood, tears, or just sitting there to avoid his family. Despite all of this, nothing could have prepared him for how he woke up before group therapy.

Hushed words that he couldn't quite understand were ringing in his ears, and what felt like a hand was gently shaking him. He vaguely recgonized himself groaning in response, swatting at the hand on his shoulder. The owner of the hand giggled, and Tyler smiled slightly in his half-awake state. Whoever was trying to wake him up had the cutest laugh ever.

"Come on Ty, we have group," the hand said, returning to its previous actions of gently trying to shake Tyler awake.

"Nrgh," Tyler replied sleepily, swatting at the hand again and attempting to roll over. Another giggle. Tyler smiled to himself again.

"Wake up, sleepyhead." God, that voice was cute. Tyler wouldn't mind sleeping regularly if he could wake up to that voice every morning. Speaking of the voice, who was it, anyway? It didn't belong to any of his siblings or parents, and Tyler had never had many friends. His smile turned into a look of confusion, before he rolled onto his back again and slowly opened his eyes, his stomach immediately dropping.

Joshua Dun was hovering above him while he lay in bed, his red hair falling down around his face in a way that made Tyler want to scream. He had never seen his face this close before, and he was enjoying what he saw. He didn't think he had ever seen eyes so stunning, and they made him feel a bit less bad about having brown eyes himself. Tyler could feel himself getting lost in them, everything else flying out his head as he stared back at Josh, not wanting to do anything but lay there and look at Josh forever.

Of course, that's not what happened.

"You sure do love staring at me," Josh laughed, pulling away from Tyler and gesturing for him to get up. "Seriously dude, group started a couple of minutes ago now, everyone will be wondering where we are."

Tyler still felt confused, almost as if he had been sleeping for days as opposed to about ten minutes. Although he wasn't sure what was going on, he knew that Josh was making fun of him again, and his face immediately turned scarlet. Josh laughed again, and the sound that had sounded so gorgeous mere seconds ago now felt cruel. Tyler didn't understand how Josh could go from the sweetest human being on the planet to a cheeky bastard two seconds later, but it was really starting to get on his nerves. He sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes for a second before Josh sighed deeply, sounding annoyed now. He could switch moods like crazy, as if he was a girl on her period.

"Can't you just hurry up? I shouldn't leave you here, but I don't want to be late either!" Josh said, annoyance clear in his voice. He reached forward and grabbed Tyler's arm suddenly, pulling it to try to get him up. Tyler gasped loudly, recoiling as if he had been burned. On top of the shock of being grabbed, something he really should have been used to after living with his dad, he could feel the shallow cut from earlier burning under his shirt sleeve. It felt like he was on fire again, but this time he didn't like it. The pain wasn't as fun when he wasn't in control of it. If he had no control, it was just pain.

Tyler grabbed at his forearm gingerly, not thinking about anything other than trying not to cry. He felt hot tears pricking at his eyes, and he looked down. He knew that the cut had opened again, and he could feel blood beading to the surface once again. He knew that he should have tried to clean it before passing out, and now his sleeve was stuck to his arm. Great.

Josh stared back at Tyler, his face one of pure shock and confusion before he seemed to put two and two together. Tyler could almost see the puzzle pieces in his brain finally fitting together, before his eyebrows raised and his mouth fell open slightly. "Oh," Josh muttered after a few seconds, his eyes still locked on Tyler's arm as he cradled it to his chest. "Oh no."

Tyler didn't know what was happening, as he so rarely actually did, but then Josh was hugging him again. _This guy really needs to make up his mind about me,_ he thought, leaning into the touch nevertheless. Josh mumbled soothing words to him while holding him tightly, and Tyler cuddled against his chest while he did so. He listened to Josh murmur about how he didn't need to do things to himself, and that it would be alright. And if Tyler let a few stray tears fall onto Josh's shirt, then nobody had to know.

 

**|-/**

 

"So why do you do it?" Josh asked quietly later that night. The two had only ended up being about ten minutes late for group, just enough time for Pete to start thinking of reasons why they were both missing. Todd had cut him off before he got too into his theories, and group continued as it normally did, save for Josh occasionally sending Tyler worried glances from across the circle.

Tyler shrugged, rolling onto his side to look across the room at Josh. He hoped that he could get a message across just through his facial expressions, even though the room was dark. Josh stared back at him, looking as if he was searching his face for clues of some sort. "Is it because you think you deserve it? 'Cause you don't." Tyler shrugged again. "And you shouldn't hate yourself either, because you're pretty cool." Another shrug. A sigh.

Josh shook his head slowly, frowning over at Tyler. "I'm glad you're here Ty," he mumbled. "I think you really need it. I know that we don't really know each other...like, at all. But I want you to be better. You deserve to be better." Tyler didn't know what to do after Josh's little speech, so he settled for nodding slightly. Josh seemed to be happy with his response, as he smiled back at him. "Goodnight, Tyler," he said, rolling over towards the wall.

Tyler stared at Josh's back for a few more seconds, biting his lip before rolling over himself. _"Night, Josh,"_ he mouthed in the dark, barely letting a breath through as he whispered, falling asleep peacefully for the second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo kudos/comment suggestions/all that jazz. 
> 
> also i am not sorry. 
> 
> :)


	5. why i'm in denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> patrick and josh are broken and angry, tyler is a confused puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS
> 
> Again, you shouldn't be reading this fic if you're easily triggered by anything. This chapter includes brief mentions of eating disorders and child abuse. 
> 
> Also, not sure if you'll love me or hate me after this chapter. Oops.

The next few weeks after Tyler's relapse passed by fairly quickly. He found himself wandering back to the lounge area after he was let out of therapy early every day, instead of sneaking back to his room to sleep or think bad thoughts, and he hadn't even thought about trying to find another way to hurt himself. He didn't want to mess up again, especially if it meant seeing that look on Josh's face. In the few years that he had been hurting himself, he'd never actually wanted to stop until then.

 _Josh._ Speaking of him, Tyler hadn't really interacted much with him since that night. Even though he still didn't speak to anyone, and Josh had been spending all of his free time with his other friends, they had some sort of unspoken understanding that the other one was there. Tyler was confused by it all, and a bit frustrated. He wanted to be friends with Josh, but he also knew that it was hard to make friends without speaking.

The closest he had to a friend in Sick Minds now was Patrick, the blonde-haried boy that still wasn't eating, despite being there for "food issues." Patrick was usually the only other boy in the lounge area when Tyler got out of his therapy sessions, which led him to believe that Patrick either wasn't going to his own therapy, or was simply not speaking as Tyler was. The two hadn't had any sort of conversation on either end, but they would always sit together and watch shitty sitcoms until group therapy started. Most times, Patrick would be there before Tyler was, so when he walked into the lounge one day after a particularly short session with his now-uncaring therapist only to find it completely empty, he was a bit worried.

Patrick had been looking sicker than usual lately, and Tyler was the only person who seemed to have picked up on it. His clothes were significantly baggier than they were before, and he was eating even less at meals, unless Pete forced him to eat more. Today had been one of the days where Pete had sat beside Patrick at lunch and made sure that every bit of food had been eaten, so Tyler began to worry a bit about him. He sat down in his usual spot on their couch, not being able to focus on whatever show it was tuned to until Patrick showed up. He had never liked not knowing where people he was close to were, and he would worry more than his mother would if his siblings didn't come home on time.

After only a few minutes of sitting and waiting, Tyler decided to try to find Patrick. He started with the halls around the lounge, hoping that maybe he was just on his was back from therapy. After failing to find him there, he started down the hallway towards his room. Patrick and Brendon's room was at the far end of the hallway, in between Ryan and Pete's room and the bathroom. Tyler was almost to the doorway when he heard a sound coming from the end of the hallway. He looked up the hall towards the bathroom, walking cautiously up to it before he heard the sound again. At first he couldn't quite place what it was, but once he pushed the door open and was hit with the stench of vomit, he put the pieces together himself. Oh no, he thought, rushing into the room and to the stall where the source of the sound and smell were coming from. He knocked on the stall door, and the choking sound halted for a minute.

"...Hello?" he heard coming from the other side of the door, quiet and rough-sounding from the vomiting. When Tyler didn't respond, he heard a sigh before the toilet flushed, and the stall door was swung open. "I'm fine, Tyler." Patrick said as he exited the stall, avoiding the other's eyes as he walked over to the sinks, splashing cold water on his face. "Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in therapy or something?"

Tyler shrugged, walking over to the sink where Patrick was furiously scrubbing his teeth while staring at himself in the mirror. Tyler watched him for a second, worry obvious on his face. Patrick avoided looking up until he was done, sighing again and looking up at Tyler. "What do you want?" he asked, sounding angrier than Tyler had ever heard him. Tyler only blinked in response, and Patrick scoffed. "Why don't you speak? I know you're not deaf. So why don't you speak to anyone?" Tyler backed up slightly as Patrick raised his voice, his eyes widening at the usually quiet boy getting so upset.

"I...I..." Tyler mumbled quietly, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper from not being used for months.

"You what?" Patrick asked, glaring at Tyler as he cowered in the corner. "Are you just just stupid or something? Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

Tyler shut his mouth quickly, trying to back up far enough to fall through the wall. He kept his eyes glued on Patrick's face, and he looked furious. Tyler hadn't meant to upset him at all, he just wanted to make sure he was okay, which he clearly was not. He didn't try to say another word, just stared back at Patrick until the other's face slowly softened. "I need help," he mumbled, turning away from Tyler quickly. "I-I'm here to get better, and I've only gotten worse. I need to stop."

Tyler nodded slightly, still in shock over the sudden mood change. He hesitated before slowly reaching out to Patrick, hugging him awkwardly and patting his back. Patrick froze up for a moment before hugging Tyler back, laughing against his shoulder. "Thanks, S.T.," he mumbled, smiling as he pulled back and nodding. "I should probably tell my therapist about everything, shouldn't I?" Without waiting for a response that he knew he wouldn't get, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Tyler feeling slightly scared and incredibly confused.

After that, Patrick stopped showing up in the lounge after therapy, and sometimes his sessions even ran a few minutes into group. He seemed a lot happier, and started to eat more, and Tyler wished he could get better that quickly.

 

 

**|-/**

 

  
Without anyone to watch lame television shows with him after his brief therapy sessions, Tyler quickly became bored of the lounge, and started going back to his room again. Occasionally, Josh would storm in angrily, only to crawl into his bed and not say a single word to Tyler. Tyler found it was best to leave Josh alone when he got in his moods, not wanting him to snap like Patrick had. He could tell that something had been bothering him, probably during his own therapy, and one day he looked up at him as he entered the room to see his face wet with tears.

Tyler opened his mouth as if to say something, and Josh glared at him. "Don't, Tyler. Don't decide to start talking to me now." Josh's words were harsh, but his voice was quiet and shaky. Tyler just stared back at him, frowning at him. He decided that he didn't like seeing Josh sad, and he wanted to do whatever he could to make it better.

Josh flopped down on his bed, as usual, staring up at the ceiling angrily. Tyler sat up in his own bed, looking over at the other silently and waiting for him to notice. Minutes passed before Josh finally sighed and wiped at his face, sitting up to look at Tyler. He was silent for a few more minutes, before finally opening his mouth. "I don't want to graduate out of here," he whispered, dropping his eyes back down to his lap. Tyler blinked, not quite knowing what he should do. Whatever he had expected Josh to say, that definitely was not it.

Josh seemed to notice the look of confusion on Tyler's face as he looked up again, because he laughed humourlessly. "I just...home isn't great. Home is what made me start shit in the first place. Leaving here will just mean I'll do it all again. I might as well just stay in here until I rot, yeah?" Josh said, sighing deeply again and rubbing at his red eyes. "I don't know. I don't even know if you get how it is to hate being in your own home, or if you understand what I mean, or-"

"My dad hits me."

Josh shut his mouth quickly, staring up at Tyler with wide eyes. It took Tyler a minute to figure out exactly what had happened, as his own words took even him by surprise. He had never said that out loud before, nor had he spoken to anybody at all in the past two months. His voice was shaky and hoarse, and he felt as if he was going to cry. He hadn't even meant to say anything, he just wanted to make Josh feel better.

"I-" Tyler mumbled, looking down quickly and feeling his face heat up yet again. Josh still wasn't saying anything, and now that he had spoken once, he felt the obligation to fill the silence. He wondered briefly if that was how everyone felt about him. "He doesn't do it a lot. He just gets angry sometimes. His job is stressful, you know? And looking after four kids is pretty difficult, and he and mom can't be around a lot. He only really hits me when I get really bad grades or mess up real bad in basketball. Other times he just yells stuff. He doesn't like me being too feminine or gay either. Maybe he just doesn't like me?" Tyler stopped to take a breath, suddenly aware that he had been babbling. Josh was still staring over at him, his mouth open slightly in surprise. "I'm sorry for going on for so long, I just haven't told anyone any of this before, and I feel like I need to get it all off of my chest, and I trust you. Weirdly. You seem to hate me, but I trust you anyway. Do you know why I would feel that wa-"

Tyler quickly shut up again, but this time it wasn't because of a lack of air. Josh had suddenly lunged forward off of his bed and placed his hand behind Tyler's neck, pulling him close to him and crashing their lips together. Tyler didn't move for a second, his hands up against Josh's chest, not knowing where to place them. He had never been kissed before, much less like this. Josh moved his lips needily against his own, and Tyler slowly started to move with him. He let his eyes flutter shut as Josh moved even closer to him, parting before sitting down next to him on Tyler's bed and pulling him in to kiss him again. Tyler pushed all his thoughts of _no no no this is wrong you can't be kissing a boy you're not gay you're not you're NOT_ out of his head as he continued to move his lips against Josh's, letting out a tiny squeak as he felt Josh's tongue poking at his bottom lip.

Josh giggled against his lips, and Tyler felt as if he was going to die right then and there. He felt Josh's tongue slowly press into his mouth, and he parted his lips more to let him lick into his mouth. He surprised both Josh and himself by letting out a low moan into the kiss, and Josh pulled away to stare at him. They looked at each other for a long time, not speaking as they panted slightly. Tyler noticed that Josh's face was a lot redder than usual, and he knew that his was too. He wasn't quite sure how to respond, and he had just opened his mouth when Josh beat him to it.

"We have group," Josh said quietly, blinking a few times before standing up. He still looked as if he was in shock, and Tyler just nodded in response, now silent again. "We should probably get going..."

Tyler nodded again, standing up off of his bed and running a hand through his hair, following Josh out into the hallway and towards the group therapy room. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but he wasn't about to question it.

Oh yeah, and he was _so definitely gay_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of you asked for more about patrick, so i wrote some sad little stump. also, joshler. 
> 
> please keep suggestions coming because I am seriously lacking in the plot development here.


	6. so what's a little vertigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone has bad parents and alex writes more gay cliches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i saw marianas trench in concert last night and i met them all so i'm emotional  
> coincidental, this chapter's title comes from vertigo by marianas trench

The next few days after the kiss seemed to fly by with ease. Tyler felt as if he was floating, not entirely there during any of his meetings. He didn't even cry during his one on one therapy sessions, just sat there with a stupid half-grin on his face as he replayed it over and over again in his head. Nothing else had happened since Josh had kissed him, and the two barely looked at each other when they were around the other boys. The only main difference was that Tyler would join in their nightly conversations, his voice hushed so that Josh had to strain to hear him, but the other boys in the hallway wouldn't be able to listen in.

On the Friday night after the Big Gay Epiphany™ (as Tyler had taken to referring to it in his head), Josh was a lot more anxious than he usually was. He was speaking a lot faster to Tyler, even pacing the room for a little bit before Tyler finally convinced him to get in bed. The smaller boy watched as Josh perched on the edge of his bed, his leg shaking as he ran his fingers through his now faded red hair. Tyler decided to do what he did best, which was stay silent and wait for Josh to initiate conversation. He had noticed that people tended to like it when he didn't butt into their private matters, even if everything worked out in the end.

"My mom is coming tomorrow," Josh finally said, his soft voice cutting through the silence of the room. "She never comes on visitation days." He still wasn't looking up at Tyler, instead deciding to focus extra hard on his foot as he tapped it against the ugly linoleum floors. "I'm scared."

"Why?" Tyler asked before thinking about it, and he silently cursed himself for being so damn nosy. Ever since he had started actually speaking to Josh, it seemed that he couldn't stop. He wished he would just shut the hell up already.

Josh gave Tyler a non-committal shrug, looking up briefly before dropping his gaze again. "She drinks," he said simply, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke. "A lot. Really, it should be her in here instead of me."

Tyler nodded slightly, although he didn't completely agree with the other boy. He was strangely glad that Josh was in here, not only so he could be with him. He was glad that the other boy got help, and that he had a place to hide away from his mother. "Is she why..." he trailed off, not wanting to get too nosy. He felt as if he had already stuck a cord, and his heart sank as he watched Josh slowly look up at him. He rushed to apologize, his eyes widening before Josh silently nodded.

"Yeah, kind of," he laughed. "I mean, it's her pills that I stole in the first place. She didn't need them." Josh fell silent again, and the room was filled with nothing but the faint sounds of sobbing from down the hall. Ah, the sweet melodies of young children falling apart under the watchful eyes of the government.

"That's not why I'm scared," Josh continued, sighing deeply and falling back onto his bed. "Well, not completely. Partially because I know that I'm leaving this place soon, and I don't want to have to go back to her." He let out another breathy laugh before continuing. "I mean, I'm 18. In the eyes of the law, I'm an adult. I could move out whenever I wanted, if it weren't for a lack of a money or job."

Tyler looked over at the other boy, moving as if to sit up before Josh continued. "Not to mention that she always knows when I have a crush. It's almost as if she has a fucking sixth sense or something."

Tyler froze in his place, half sitting up in his bed. "You have a crush?" he asked quietly, his face heating up slightly as he spoke. "O-on me?" he added.

Josh stammered slightly as he replied, and Tyler noticed that his cheeks were reddening. Blushing seemed to be all that they did now. "I mean...yeah. I thought it was obvious after, you know," he grinned towards the ceiling, and Tyler felt like dying. "Making out with you a little bit."

Tyler nodded slowly, falling silent again as he stood up. He felt his heart threaten to pound out of his chest as he moved, stepping across the small room and crawling across Josh to lie next to him in his bed. He watched as Josh rolled over to look at him, once again clad in only his boxers. Tyler swore that he only did that to drive him crazy, and it was definitely working. "What are you doing?" Josh mumbled, smiling slightly as he looked into Tyler's eyes.

"Sleeping with you," Tyler replied quietly, pulling a blanket over the two of them before rushing to correct himself. "I mean sleeping in the bed. With you. Next to you."

Josh laughed, and Tyler was instantly soothed by the sound. "I know what you mean Ty," he mumbled, smiling before letting his eyes close. "G'night."

"Night, Josh."

 

  
**|-/**

 

  
Tyler felt Josh's leg vibrate against his own as they sat in the lounge, waiting for their mothers to show up. A few of the parents had already arrived to visit their children, while the usual few that had no families to see them retreated back to their rooms or sunk into the corners of the lounge. Josh would normally have gone with them, probably to either nap or watch game shows with Patrick again, but this time he had to wait for his mother. He sat next to Tyler on the uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting impatiently for the woman that he hated the most to walk through the door. He was still expecting her to not show up, and he wasn't sure yet if that would make him feel better or worse. Tyler was just about to open his mouth to say something to Josh, maybe a few comforting words, when he felt the other tense up beside him. He followed his gaze towards the woman who had just entered the room.

Josh's mother swayed slightly as she walked, her leopard-printed heels a sharp contrast to the bleak walls and floors inside Sick Minds. Her oversized handbag made a sloshing sound as she walked over to them, and Tyler could only guess what kind of booze she must have kept in there. Her smile was obviously faked, straining against her bright red lips as she finally stopped in front of them.

"Hello Joshua," she greeted, staring directly at Tyler as she spoke. Tyler felt as if her eyes were boring holes into him. God, she could light grass fires with those things.

"Hello, mom." Josh's teeth were tightly clenched as he stared back at his mother, the tension evident between them.

"Is this your little twink of a boyfriend?" she continued, her voice oddly high pitched. Everything about her was fake. "Who knew there were other fags in rehab?"

Tyler shrunk into his seat, his mouth falling open slightly before he heard his own mother's voice from behind him. He quickly jumped up, leaving Josh and his mother to glare at each other as he ran to his own mom. He stopped in his tracks as his father stepped out from the doorway, looking incredibly out of place in the run down building. Tyler felt his heart sink lower when his therapist emerged from the room behind them too, beckoning for Tyler to join them.

His therapist's office was cramped and hot. Tyler could hear the muffled sounds of awkward family reunions out in the lounge, past the steady hum of the white noise machines that never quite did their job right. He barely paid attention to the words flying out of his therapist's mouth, only catch certain words as he stared at the floor.

"Resisting treatment..."

"Insurance..."

"Can't afford..."

"Go home."

Tyler's head snapped back up at those last words, his eyes widening. The man behind the desk seemed to notice him then, and looked at him with false sympathy. "There's no more I can do for you, Tyler. You're refusing treatment, all you do is sit and stare off into nothing. I can't help you if you won't help me." Tyler blinked, and the doctor sighed again.

"Plain and simple, out insurance won't cover your care here anymore," Mr. Joseph's booming voice filled the room. His tone was sharp and direct, but covered in a fake politeness that Tyler had grown to know over the years. It was his you're-getting-a-beating-as-soon-as-we're-home voice. It still made Tyler flinch and shrink farther into his chair. "They say that this thing that you do. You're doing it to yourself. They won't cover costs for someone who's doing stupid things and refusing to stop."

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong, Tyler thought. He didn't say anything though, just dropped his gaze back down to the floor like he was trained to. You don't stare into the eyes of the man who has power over you. "You're out of here in a week's time. We can't afford to pay for your...'treatment,'" he continued, the sarcasm thick in his tone as he grinned across at him. Tyler thought that in all the years he had lived at home, he had never been this terrified of his father.

Meanwhile, Tyler's mother wasn't saying a word. She just sat in her seat, curled in on herself slightly as she listened to her husband speak. She had been trained in the same way Tyler had, not to look up or talk back, unless you want to get hit. There wasn't much that she could do without being screamed at. Tyler almost sympathized for her, before realizing that if she would just stand up for herself, he wouldn't be here. He hated his mother almost as much as his father.

The rest of the meeting went by fairly smoothly, with only a few death glares from his father's direction. By the time they finally left the office, visiting hours were over. Without so much as waving goodbye to his son, Mr. Joseph grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her out of the building. Tyler watched them leave, his heart moving from his stomach up into his throat. He had to find a way to get out of Sick Minds, but not return home. He found himself once again moving without even realizing it, his feet slapping against the floors loudly in the empty hallway as he ran to his room. Once he ran through the archway and grabbed his bag from under his bed, he noticed the other boy sitting up in the other bed.

"Josh," Tyler said, his voice hushed and quick. "I need to find a way out of here, they're sending me home next week."

"Me too."

"Apparently I'm 'resisting treatment' or something, and insurance won't give my parents more money for their basket case son-" Tyler continued, shoving everything he could grab into his bag without looking up at Josh.

"Me too."

"I don't know where I'm going, but I know it's going to be far away."

"Tyler." Finally, Tyler dropped what he was holding and turned to Josh, seeing his eyes red with tears. His mouth fell open as he ran to Josh's side, kissing the tears off his cheeks and shushing him. "I'm graduating out of here." Josh mumbled, wrapping his arms around Tyler's thin waist protectively. "I've recovered, apparently. I'm out of here next Saturday."

"What are we going to do?" Tyler asked quietly, his own eyes watering.

"I don't know," Josh answered honestly. "I can't go back to her. I can't leave you. I can't stay he-."

Tyler shushed Josh in the same way the other had done it a week before. He pressed his lips firmly to Josh's, his face now wet with tears. Josh kissed back instantly, pulling Tyler even closer to him before the two broke apart. "Pack." Tyler said simply, and Josh's face changed to one of confusion. "Come with me."

"Where are you going?" Josh asked uneasily, sitting up and grabbing his own bag.

Tyler shrugged, stepping over to his own bed again and returning to shoving everything he could into his bag. "Don't know yet," he said. "All I know is that we're running."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not good sighs


	7. gonna make that move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teenage runaways & too many italics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so fucking short and so fuckin shitty but yeah
> 
> this is almost over fam i give it like one more chapter okay so have fun with this one
> 
> chapter title from "runaway" by ed sheeran

In hindsight, running away from a rehabilitation center wasn't Tyler's best idea. It wasn't even a good idea, and inviting Josh to come with him was even worse.  
They had planned to leave on Monday morning, two days after the original plan. The two had packed up what they could on Saturday night, hiding their bags under their beds so the nurses wouldn't notice. Tyler had fidgeted more than usual throughout his now completely pointless therapy session. His therapist no longer tried at all, just sat there and stared back at Tyler while occasionally checking his watch. As Josh was officially graduated, he no long had to go to his own personal therapy session, just the group ones. 

The plan was as follows:

  
 **Step One: Leave therapy early**.

  
Step One turned out to be the easiest, obviously. Tyler had only been sitting on his therapist's scratchy couch for about fifteen minutes when he was let out, admittedly earlier than he had been before. He had tried to act inconspicous when scrambling back to his and Josh's dorm, and probably failed miserably. Oh well, it wasn't as if any of the nurses cared too much anyway.

 

**Step Two: ~~Collect Josh~~ Leave Josh behind and look for the emergency exit. **

  
Step Two was a tad harder than the first step. When Tyler arrived back at the dorm, Josh was ready to go, holding both Tyler's bag and his own in his arms. 

 

"Let's go," he had said immediately, tossing Tyler his bag and starting towards the door.

 

Tyler hadn't expected the other to be so up for running away, especially since he was already legal. He could move out once he got out. Tyler, on the other hand, still had another year of high school to finish before even thinking about leaving home. He stood for a moment, frozen in the doorway as he tried to think of an excuse for Josh to stay behind while he made a run for it. 

 

"Josh wait," he said quietly, still racking his brain for ideas. 

 

Josh turned around to stare at Tyler, his eyes wide. "We don't have time to wait, Tyler. Group is in less than an hour, and I'd like to be very  _very_ far away before that starts, and they come looking for us."

 

Tyler hesitated, still trying to come up with a lie, an excuse, a  _something._ He couldn't have Josh with him. He hardly knew the other boy, and he had regretted inviting him along for the ride since the words had come out of his mouth. Having Josh along would inevitably slow him down, as well as looking that much more obvious when he left. A couple of queer teenage runaways is a much bigger issue than one basket-case going missing. If Tyler was able to get away by himself, his disappearance would simply be written off as a suicide. If Josh came along, he might as well have called the cops on himself.

 

"Maybe you should hang back for a minute or two," Tyler finally suggested, throwing his backpack straps over his shoulders and shrugging them into place. "Just so it looks a bit less obvious. You can keep watch, too. Just yell for me if you see someone coming."

 

Josh stared back at Tyler in disbelief. "Uh, fuck no," he said bluntly, laughing humorlessly. "I'm not letting you go on without me. What if something happens and you get caught? What if  _I_ get caught back here, and you get off without me? No. I'm coming with you." 

 

And then it was settled. Tyler and Josh set off into the deserted hallway towards the emergency exit, marked by a large red sign announcing that an alarm would sound when the door was opened. Tyler snorted slightly at the faded words on the sign as he pushed the door open with ease. He had been scoping out this exit since he had first gotten there, and it hadn't taken too long before he slowly pushed the door open for the first time for a glimpse of sunlight. He knew that if the warning was true, and an alarm actually did sound, he could always write it off as an accident. It wasn't as if the crummy building could afford security cameras anyway.

 

Finally,  **Step Three: Run.**

 

Step Three turned out to be the hardest of them all. Tyler hadn't gotten any exercise at all since moving into Sick Minds, and even beforehand, he wasn't in the best shape. Sure, he played sports in school and at home, but cardio was never his thing. Josh on the other hand moved like a cheetah, darting across the lawn at a speed that Tyler was sure he was only imagining. Humans couldn't move that fast, or at least none that Tyler had seen. He had a hard time catching up with the older boy, and by the time they turned the corner and were out of the view of Sick Minds, he was completely out of breath.

 

Josh was stopped in front of the beginning of the long driveway, standing perfectly still. Tyler was doubled over and wheezing, coughing slightly as he fought to regain his breath. He looked up and down the quiet street, realizing that he hadn't even looked on the way when his mother had dropped him off. He noted that there were, in fact, pine trees lining the road. Still no sea, though.

 

Once Tyler had finally caught his breath, Josh started to walk again without so much as a word. Tyler straightened back out, following Josh down the road. He seemed to know exactly where he was headed, and Tyler was suddenly hit with the realization that he didn't even know where Josh was from. Although Tyler was from out of town, Josh could have very well lived down the road. Tyler had just run away with a strange boy who he knew _absolutely nothing about._ **  
**

Josh continued to walk, and Tyler followed a few feet behind him, confused as hell. They had only been walking for a few minutes when Josh changed directly, leading Tyler towards a run-down looking donut shop. Tyler pulled his backpack tighter to his back, following Josh up to the store and through the doors. He was then led to a small booth in the back corner, where Josh finally spoke. 

 

"Holy hell," he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse as he laughed. "We just ran away. We fucking ran away. From fucking  _rehab._ "

 

Tyler nodded slowly, before bursting out into giggles himself. Nothing about their current scenario was funny at all, though neither of them seemed to be able to stop. When Tyler finally stopped himself, he smiled over at Josh.

 

"I guess it's just you and me now, huh?" he said quietly. 

 

Josh nodded in response, humming a sound of approval before taking Tyler's hand in his own in the middle of the table. "You and me against the world," he mumbled back.

 

They had done it. Tyler could hardly believe their luck of their plan turning out. Aside from the small issue of Josh still being with him, which maybe wasn't so bad anyway, everything had gone perfectly.

 

Which is exactly why nothing could have prepared them for  **Step Four: Tyler's mother walking through the front door.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops


	8. every little thing is gonna be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wrapping it all up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually so shit but whatever. i'm sorry for not updating in like a million years, i've been busy and lazy. enjoy! xx

The clock on the wall ticked with each passing second, the only sound in the small white room aside from the soft humming of the noise cancelling cones that were positioned outside of each door in the hallway. The walls were made up of ugly wood panelling, which had had a few coats of white paint sloppily slapped onto them in an attempt to brighten up the room. Or maybe it was to make it look it bit more industrial, and a bit less 80's. Tyler could feel himself getting lost in the quiet sound of the ticking, and the sound only got louder and louder with each passing second. Tick. Tick. **Tick.**

"Tyler," came a familiar voice. It was the tired voice of a stranger that Tyler hadn't really gotten to know in the months of having them speak to him. This time, the man sounded a lot less bored and tired and more exasperated. His tone suggested that he wasn't getting paid nearly enough to put up with Tyler's bullshit, and he had to agree. "Do you want to tell me exactly what happened tonight?"

If Tyler was the speaking type, and hadn't been taught from an early age to never speak back to adults, he may have replied with something along the lines of "I'd rather not. Now, can I go to bed?" But he wasn't, and he had been.

Instead, he dropped his gaze from the ugly walls where he had been counting the panels (he'd gotten to 22 before being so rudely interrupted) to the floor, picking at his fingers anxiously as he waited to be let out.

"Tyler."

What exactly _had_ happened that night was still a mass confusion to Tyler. He knew that he and Josh had made a run for it, finally getting away from (the more appropriately named than he had thought before) Sea Pines and everyone in it. They hadn't had too much of a plan after getting away, only that they needed to be anywhere but at home or in rehab. Nothing else had mattered in the moment except for Tyler and Josh.

 **Josh.** Where was Josh? Tyler hadn't seen what had happened to him after the silent car ride back to Sick Minds by Tyler's mother, who had spent a grand total of five minutes in the donut shop yelling and crying at Tyler while the two boys remained silent. Once they had returned to Sick Minds, a nurse came by and swept Josh away, and Tyler and his mother were led into the cramped office of Tyler's former therapist to discuss what they could do with him.

Tyler's mother just wanted him to be home, but Tyler had shaken his head so frantically when she had suggested it that it took everyone by surprise. Tyler's therapist had surprisingly agreed with him, saying that even if he was refusing treatment, he still needed it. The two adults had bickered back and forth for a while, before they calmed down and Mrs. Joseph had been escorted out of the office to allow for Tyler to tell his side of the story, or not.

"Tyler, I know that you've spoken since you've been here. We know you and Josh have been talking." Tyler looked up in confusion, his heart pounding as he wondered meekly if the place actually did have security cameras - maybe even microphones - set up in the boys' rooms. "You had to have in order to plan this out, of course." Ah, right. That also made sense.

"Why did you try to run away, Tyler?" the man said, his tone changing to a more gentle one. He was obviously trying to refrain from scaring Tyler, and he could appreciate that a little bit. "You were going home in a few days anyway. What was the point of running now?"

Tyler shrugged, not looking up. He heard the man sigh again, and lean back in his office chair. "We're not leaving this room until you tell me something. And I'd like to go home when I get off work." Tyler smiled slightly at that, hoping that the man wouldn't notice it.

"I don't like home," he finally whispered after minute of silence, his voice cutting through the ticking and whirring of the machines. He noted that his therapist didn't even move to write anything in the little notebook that was in his file, probably still completely empty.

"Okay. This is good, you're making some progress," the man said, false cheerfulness in his voice. Tyler knew that he was a disappointment, he didn't need false encouragement to try to prove him otherwise. "Why don't you like being home, Tyler?"

"There's so many people. Too much noise," he said after another long pause. "My parents have four kids, and I'm the oldest. I'm pretty much invisible unless I do something really good."

"So your parents neglect you?"

Tyler immediately felt the guilt wash over him, and he looked up as he shook his head quickly. "No, of course not. They're just so busy, you know? They have other things to worry about. As long as I get good grades and excel at everything, they leave me alone."

The man seemed to be suddenly interested, and he leaned forward in his chair again, reaching for his pen. "What do you mean they leave you alone?" he pressed, flipping his notebook open and scribbling something onto the page without looking at it.

The writing was making Tyler a litle bit nervous again, but he continued anyway. "Well, I need to make all A's. A+ when possible. And I need to be the best on the basketball team, so I shoot baskets every night. 500," he added when the man raised his eyebrows at him. "No mistakes, or I start over. I need to be the best of the best."

A pause. More cribbling. "So, you feel like you have to be the best at everything you do?"

"I don't feel like it. I just know I have to be."

More scribbling. "And what would happen if you weren't the best at everything?" A longer silence. Tyler sat frozen in place as the man stared at him over his desk. He opened his mouth to respond, before slamming it shut again.

"That's fine, Tyler. You did very, very well today." Tyler nodded slowly, his eyes still wide and staring at nothing. "You may wait outside my office for a moment, I'll just have a quick word with your mother." Another pause, before Tyler nodded and stood to leave.

 

 

**|-/**

 

 

"They're not sending me home," he mumbled to Josh, still a bit in shock.

"Really?" Josh asked, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Tyler nodded back at him, and he mumbled "Wow. Why?"

Tyler shrugged before replying. "I'm still broken, I guess. I told my therapist - I don't even know his name, I'm so awful - I told him that I don't like being home because I have to be the best and-"

"Wait, you spoke to him?" Josh interrupted, smiling over at the smaller boy.

Tyler nodded, smiling back. "Yeah, I did. I think I'm gonna tell him. You know, about everything. Maybe he'll actually help."

Josh nodded back at him. "Well, that's what we're here for."

"What about you?" Tyler asked after a moment, leaning back so his head was in Josh's lap.

"Hmm?" Josh mumbled, blinking sleepily.

"Are you staying here too?"

"Oh." A pause. "No." A longer pause.

"Oh," Tyler replied quietly.

"I mean, I was graduating anyway. I'm officially clean, so I can go home." Josh looked away, and Tyler's chest ached for a reason he couldn't find. "Ty, you need to get better, okay? For you, and for me. And then we can try to make this...thing work. Okay?"

Tyler nodded, and he actually meant it. A relationship while they were both broken was a terrible idea, and they both needed to heal completely before trying anything out.

"Do you have a phone?" Josh asked, and Tyler nodded again. He didn't want to speak in case he said something stupid, suggested that they try to make it work anyway. He knew in his heart that it couldn't happen until he got out, if ever. Josh got up to rip a scrap of paper out of a notebook in his bag, and he scribbled something on it before handing it to Tyler. "When you get out of here, call me," he mumbled, and Tyler took the paper.

"Thanks, Josh," he said, because he didn't know what else he could say. Instead of speaking any more, he leaned in and pecked Josh's cheek. The other's cheeks heated up, before he smiled and kissed Tyler's cheek back.

"You'd better talk to people while I'm gone," Josh warned, pointing his finger at Tyler teasingly. "I don't want to have to wait forever for you, you know."

Tyler smiled, leaning on Josh again. "I wouldn't want you to lose interest in me, after all."

"Trust me babe," Josh said quietly. "That won't happen anytime soon."

Tyler didn't know exactly how the next few months would pan out, but he knew that he would be okay. Everything would work out well eventually, he could feel it. He was going to try - really, proper try - to get better. Not only for Josh, but for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end i'm sorry


	9. epilogue - call me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and in the end, all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen you wanted an epilogue so you got it and you're not allowed to complain about how shitty it is okay love u be safe drink some water and comment on this xx

Tyler spent another two and a half months in Sick Minds, but he wasn't complaining. He was there long enough to see everyone else in his group graduate, and he was really happy for them all. Even Pete, who had been a giant dick to him from his first day there, wasn't that bad by the time he left. He even started calling Tyler by his name, since "Silent Treatment" no long fit him quite as well as it had.

  
Tyler kept the scrap piece of paper with Josh's number on it safe in his bag, waiting for him to leave. He was only supposed to be in for a few extra weeks, but things got a bit messier after he started talking to his therapist properly. The few weeks after he admitted what went on at home, his therapist started trying to convince him to file a police report against his father.

  
Tyler flat-out refused at first. Of course he did. Even if he was terrible of being around his dad, it didn't mean he wasn't him sent away. His family needed him, that's what he had always told them just when thy started to think of leaving. Home would only be worse without him there, Tyler reasoned with his therapist. They needed him.

  
Eventually, however, Tyler agreed. And then began the long process of having his younger siblings and mother removed from the house until they could find enough evidence to have his father sent away. Tyler decided to just stay at Sick Minds while that was happening, as he knew his father would seek them out faster if he was with them. He had always been the number one target in his home, and he didn't want to endanger his family any more.

  
Even after Tyler was finally released - his father not behind bars, but still under a strict restraining order from his family - he didn't call Josh at first. He felt guilty about breaking his promise, having told Josh that he would call as soon as he was out. As much as he wanted to, he knew it was still too soon. He was home and free from his dad for the first time, and his whole household had to adjust to being fearless and fatherless.

  
Not to mention the schoolwork. Even though Tyler had tried to stay on top of his studies while in rehab, he had missed far too many days and tests to graduate on time, meaning he had to repeat grade twelve if he wanted his diploma. He spent two full days in his room when he found out, full of fear even though he knew he would be safe now.

  
It wasn't until six months after returning home, almost nine months since he had last seen Josh, that Tyler dug the scrap paper out of the bottom of his bag. It had admittedly been in better shape, but the numbers scrawled across it were still eligible enough. Tyler's hands shook as he dialled the number, wondering if Josh would even remember him. He had probably moved on already, after all, it had been close to a year.

  
Tyler stared at the numbers on his phone screen, checking them over five times - just to be sure, not to stall or anything - before hesitantly pressing the call button and holding the phone to his ear. At first, he wasn't sure that Josh would answer. The phone rang for a while, and just when he was about to give up and try another time, he heard a voice on the other line.

  
"Hello?" Josh's familiar voice answered, sounding slightly confused, probably at recieving a call from an unknown number randomly.

  
Tyler was silent for a second, and it took Josh repeating himself before he spoke up. "Hi Josh," he whispered.

  
Josh didn't reply right away, but when he did he sounded even more confused than he had before, and a bit concerned. "Uh...do I know you?" he asked.

  
Tyler could feel his heart cracking at Josh's words, and half of him just wanted to say no and hang up. "Uh...it's Tyler," he added quietly, his little bit of confidence completely destroyed. It had been stupid to assume that Josh would remember him anyway.

  
The line was silent, and Tyler thought for a moment that Josh had hung up on him. Finally, Josh mumbled "You didn't call."

  
Tyler laughed slightly, less because of the humour of the situation and more of relief. "I know, I'm sorry," he said. "I got out a couple of months after you did, and everything's just been so crazy since then."

  
"How are you?" Josh asked quickly, and Tyler knew that he actually cared about the answer. Josh had been the only one to care before, and he didn't give that up.

  
"I'm good, really," Tyler said, pausing slightly. "My dad doesn't live with us anymore. He might be going to jail."

  
The line went silent again, before Tyler heard a small "Oh" from Josh's side.

  
"Yeah."

  
Silence again. You would think that Tyler and Josh would have been used to silence after spending months without speaking, but it still felt awkward for some reason.

  
"Do you wanna go out sometime?" Josh asked casually, as if they hadn't just been talking about something as serious as child abuse. Tyler laughed slightly at the idea of it, and he heard Josh laughing with him.

  
"Sure," he replied, just as casually. "Just text me."

  
"Trust me, I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this is the real end it is over it is dead

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> Leave kudos and comment if you want me to continue~


End file.
